The Silence Is A Holding

The house is quiet now, and the silence after your prayer feels heavier than the request itself. You spoke into the dark, and the only answer was the sound of your own voice fading away.

It feels like the ceiling has closed in, like the words hit the air and dropped, uncaught. But notice — the silence is not an absence.

It is a holding. The light does not always speak back in words; sometimes it simply stays.

It remains in the room with you, unmoving, unbothered by the lack of sound. You are not shouting into a void.

You are resting in a presence that knows how to be quiet. The answer is not a noise that breaks the silence.

The answer is the fact that you are not alone within it.